


Enough For Now

by GraphiteFox



Series: Your Name, It's An Honor [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: If you hate Michelle Unwin this is not for you, Light Angst, M/M, Merlin gets shit done, Older Man/Younger Man, Past Abuse, Post V-Day, Protective Merlin, Unwin Family Defense Squad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:43:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4115932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraphiteFox/pseuds/GraphiteFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes people need more than a pat on the shoulder and a “be brave.”  Eggsy isn’t used to having someone in his corner.  Merlin is determined to give him a fighting chance.  They make a pretty good team.</p><p>AKA Eggsy is glad he's a risk-taker (and so is Merlin).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough For Now

**Author's Note:**

> This is like all my other stories in that things get sad and then kissing happens. I can't stop myself.

               Eggsy has only been Galahad for a few months, but he’s already got one up on Harry. He’s never late.

                He says hello to Andrew and is ready to take the stairs up to the dining room when the shop door opens. Familiar faces peek in, though not ones he thought he’d see here. Jamal and Ryan stand in the doorway, looking unsure of whether they should come in or back out.

                Eggsy waves them in and they stand together, looking uncomfortable among the pinstripe fabrics and leather chairs. He’s happy to see them, though a little anxious that they’d come here. It’s nothing against them, just that the tailor ruse still feels weak to him.

                They’re dressed a little nicer than usual, Ryan especially.

                “What’s with the button up, bruv?” Eggsy asks, and Ryan fires back “you’re one to talk!” which is more than fair. Eggsy is decked out in his standard suit and wearing his Kingsman glasses, because Merlin needed to chat with him on the cab ride over.

                “It’s for work,” Ryan explains, and this raises Eggsy’s brows.

                “You’re workin’?”

                “Yeah, you know. Runnin’ errands and stuff for this insurance company. Pick up shit. File reports. It pays,” he says with a shrug.

                Jamal’s got a shoulder bag slung on his right side, the kind you get as a promotional item from a job fair or some such. In their neighborhood it screams “steal me” with a bonus ass-kicking for the carrier as well. He shifts it a little self-consciously. “’S for my books.”

                “You went back to school?” Eggsy hasn’t seen them for a couple months, not since he moved his mum and Daisy out. He’s been meaning to check on them, he really has, but everything’s been a mess post-V-day and he’s only been able to catch his breath this past week. They appear to be doing just fine.

                “It’s jus’ community college,” Jamal says, “but maybe I’d transfer to uni later.”

                “What would you study?” asks Eggsy, still a bit thrown.

                “I dunno. I thought I’d study law or some shit.” He mutters it like it’s no big deal, but Eggsy can see the excitement in Jamal’s eyes. He had no idea his friend even cared about law beyond knowing how to avoid it. That’s the fact of living under constant threat though: you tend to keep anything soft, anything hopeful, buried deep. That’s the only way it can’t be used against you.

                Ryan’s got his hands in his pockets; he kicks his foot out for a moment before talking. “We thought if you could get out, maybe we could too. And with Dean and his gang gone, we’re less likely to get our faces punched in for the trouble.”

                “Gone?”

                “Didn’t you hear, bruv? They’re all in jail. Drug dealing or summat.”

                It shouldn’t surprise him as much as it does. He debates whether or not it’s worth looking into their sentences. If it’s just paltry shit it might depress him. “Yeah, right,” he replies. “Serves them fuckin’ right.”

                Merlin’s expecting him in the dining room any second now. He resists glancing at his watch.

                Ryan catches on, leaning towards the door. “Anyway, we gotta go. Jus’ wanted to make sure you was kickin’.”

                “Call me,” Eggsy tells them, and he means it. “You can come have dinner with Daisy and me mum and I can hear more about this whole responsible adult thing you two are doin’.”

                Ryan raises his fingers in a V, then glances over Eggsy’s shoulder to where Andrew is pretending to not notice them. They all share a quick laugh.

                “When you gonna make me one of them suits, bruv?” asks Jamal.

                Eggsy grins. “Come back when you’re a lawyer, yeah?”

                “Say hi to Mrs. P for us.”

                _It’s Ms. U_ , Eggsy thinks, but he just nods. He doesn’t feel like explaining that his mum is Michelle _Unwin_ again. He didn’t ask her to change it; she must have decided that it felt better, returning to something safe and familiar after all these years of hell.

                Jamal and Ryan shuffle back out of the shop, their shoulders relaxing once they’re out on the pavement. Eggsy has mostly gotten used to his newfound affluence, but he knows that feeling. He watches them pass the window and continues watching for a moment, even after they’ve gone out of sight.

                “I think you’ve had a good influence on those young men,” Merlin remarks, coming up behind him.

                He turns to focus on the older man--his boss. “It helps that someone cleaned Dean’s goons out of the neighborhood,” Eggsy responds, his eyes focused on Merlin’s face.

                There’s no change, barring a slight quirk of his brow.

                “Well, I’m happy to hear that. Now if we could discuss your most recent trip? I have some questions about your receipts.”

                “Sure thing, Arthur,” Eggsy replies, and follows Merlin up out of the shop and into the dining room.

                Not much has changed, but the room feels different. Everything feels different since Merlin took over. Eggsy calls him Arthur when it’s appropriate, but mostly he still refers to him as Merlin. They haven’t found someone to fill the position yet, and Merlin’s even admitted to Eggsy that he’s fond of the moniker after so many years.

                It makes the transition easier anyway, because the last Arthur was Arthur for so long that his memory taints the title.

               Merlin’s a taskmaster, sure, but a benevolent one, and Eggsy is thrilled to follow him. He’s not the only one. All the agents respect Merlin, and he looks after them well.

                Not just in the field, if the recent news is anything to go on.

                Merlin is seated at the head of the table. He shifts a moment, situating himself. Eggsy hangs a couple chairs back—it’s Kay’s seat that he waits by, his hand clasping the wooden backing.

                “Thanks, Merlin.”

                Merlin opens his portfolio, tugging out a sheet of printed paper. “For?”

                “Don’t lie to me, yeah? I know it was you who got them all arrested.”

                This time, Merlin dips his head in acknowledgement. “I’m only sorry it took so long. Harry should have taken care of it a long time ago.”

                “I wondered about that, you know. Why he didn’t.” It feels wrong to admit this out loud. Harry’s dead and it seems cruel to resent him for things he never did. He didn’t _have_ to do anything. Eggsy still wished he had.

                “Not that I’m ungrateful and all,” he adds hurriedly. “He gave me this.”

                Merlin’s voice is harsher than Eggsy expects it to be, his large eyes narrowed behind dark frames. “Harry didn’t _give_ you this, Eggsy. You earned it. He brought you here, yes, but you’re the one who did the work. You can give him credit without discounting yourself.”

                He’s not used to giving himself credit for anything. There’s so much undone in his life: nearly a dozen lives that he could have lived if it wasn’t for…

                Harry’s words still echo in his mind, chastising him for not doing more. For pushing blame onto others.

                The truth is that he never forgot Harry after that first encounter, not really. He was only a kid but his mum was crying and this strange man trusted him to make it stop. He was supposed to take care of her and that failure dogged him his entire life. How many times did he wish that strange man had left instructions, some kind of How To book? How To Make Your Mum Stop Crying. How To Get Her To Leave Her Bed. How To Get Her To Eat Something.

                How could they have known? Dean was nice at first. He gave Eggsy candy and made Michelle laugh. Eggsy hadn’t seen her laugh in a very long time.

                The first time he shouted at her he apologized. The first time he hit her, he brought her flowers afterwards. Then he started shouting more and apologizing less. By that point he was so entangled in their lives that trying to separate him was harder than staying trapped. Keeping him happy meant that they could stay in the flat. They had a little pocket money. And the neighborhood bullies didn’t beat Eggsy up so much.

                By the time Daisy came along, the fear had become familiar. Every time he tried to leave it pulled him back. He was nothing, no one, his heart was too soft.

                How many times did he curl up in bed with hot tears streaking down his face, thinking _I’m supposed to fix this_?

                Merlin’s the one who fixed it in the end, with the appointment, and Harry’s old place, and a lot of sudden charges that put Dean out of Eggsy’s reach (not that he _would_ have beaten Dean to death, per se, but Merlin wisely removed the potential for such a situation to occur).

Dean might be in jail, but he isn’t gone, not really. They all still flinch when a cabinet gets closed a little too hard, or when someone shouts on the street. He’s careful, so careful to slide his hands between doors and their frames, easing them shut with barely a sound.

                Daisy is so young still and it’s his fervent hope that she won’t remember anything that’s happened. She deserves all the love and happiness he can create for her.

                “Galahad.”

                He hasn’t been paying attention, but Merlin is standing in front of him now.

                “Eggsy.”

                He reacts instantly, standing a little straighter, his gaze focused. He was out of it for a while, but Merlin doesn’t seem upset. They’ve got an easy banter most days, and Merlin holds him accountable for himself without being a complete dick about it. Besides, Eggsy’s always been eager to please. He’d do just about anything for the tech wizard for more reasons than respect. That’s not something he’s been brave enough to admit to himself just yet though.

                “Sorry, distracted.” He musters up a brief smile that collapses a little at the edges. “Anyway, you wanted to talk to me about Madrid?”

                “I wanted,” he begins, and then looks suddenly unsure. It’s a brief lapse, but it’s the kind of expression Eggsy imagines when he’s under heavy fire and Merlin’s yelling through the coms, calm enough but never quite able to crush the edge of worry that creeps in. It’s what makes Merlin so easy to respect as Arthur. He’s had their backs, been their voice of reason (quite literally), and he knows just how much to ask of each of them.

                That’s the thing about Merlin: he doesn’t look away. If something’s wrong, he’s going to fix it.

                “I just wanted to let you know that you aren’t alone, Eggsy. Not anymore. The next time you need backup…” Merlin gestures to the empty chairs, each one belonging to an agent. A Kingsman, just like he is now. “You have it.”

                “Even you?” Eggsy asks, feeling suddenly reckless.

                “Especially me.”

                He tells himself he’s not imagining the intent in Merlin’s voice; he has to tell himself this, otherwise he’s going to making a fucking fool of himself.

                He has to push up on his tiptoes to reach Merlin and he does, knocking their glasses together before succeeding in pressing his lips to the older man’s. It’s a risk, and maybe he’ll regret it, and _Christ_ , Merlin isn’t doing _anything_ , he’s so fired now—

                Then Merlin’s got one hand splayed in the small of Eggsy’s back, bringing him closer. With the other he removes Eggsy’s glasses, which have gone askew, and suddenly Eggsy’s simple kiss becomes more insistent, and less under his control. Merlin smells like aftershave and tastes like black tea, bitter and smoky. Eggsy wonders what he tastes like—he made pancakes this morning and practically drowned his in syrup— _Christ_ , he doesn’t remember Merlin teaching them this in their seduction training.

                He wants to be closer, and then closer still, but Merlin breaks away and he whimpers at the loss. It’s enough to win him another kiss, softer, but with a hint of teeth against his lower lip. Then they’re facing each other as normal colleagues, and while Eggsy knows he doesn’t have a hair out of place, he _feels_ disheveled. Merlin has some color in his thin lips— _those fucking lips_ —but appears otherwise unruffled.

                “Wanted to do that for a long fuckin’ time,” Eggsy remarks.

                To his surprise, Merlin laughs. “If I’d have known that, I would have done something about it sooner.”

                Eggsy’s feeling brave. “Oh yeah? What would you have done?”

                “About Madrid.”

                Eggsy stares back at him, confused. “Madrid?”

                Merlin doesn’t blink. “Yes. I’ve been reviewing the footage and I’ve noticed that you have a proclivity for spending bullets like they’re free, Galahad.”

                It’s not at all what he’s expecting and not at all what he wants. He _wants_ dirty confessions in a low Scottish brogue. Instead he’s getting a mild scolding over ammunition wastage? “Wait, so you really did jus’ wanna talk to me about my report?”

                “Two regular security guards, no special armor, three bullets apiece? Disappointing, considering how impressive your testing scores were.”

                “I thought we was havin’ a moment,” Eggsy complains. Just a moment ago his mouth had been home to one tongue too many. It was _nice_. It was the most exciting thing he’d done since V-day.

                Merlin glances down at the screen built into one side of his portfolio. “It looks like I have time around 3 o’clock today. Why don’t you meet me at the range and we can go over some basic training again?”

                He doesn’t need basic training and he’s about to tell Merlin so when he catches the older man’s smirk. _Oh._

                “Got it. I could certainly do with a refresher. 3, right?”

                Merlin nods, looking pleased, and it takes all of Eggsy’s self-control not to yank the man down by his tie and snog him dizzy. Or better yet, Merlin could shove him up against the wall and— _fuck._ He can’t afford to think like that, not when it’s still early in the morning. He’s got to distract himself for _hours_ now.

                “No chance you have any earlier openings?” Eggsy suggests, putting on his best innocent look. It’s worked on weaker men but Merlin is not a weak man.

                “Patience, Eggsy,” he replies. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” He strides past, but not without brushing one hand across Eggsy’s hip. It isn’t until after Merlin’s left the room that Eggsy realizes he’s clenching the chair back again, fingertips nearly white with pressure.

                “Fuck,” he hisses, releasing his death grip on the wood. He tugs out his phone and sends Merlin a quick text asking if he wouldn’t mind extending their “review” because it’s been _so long_ since he’s gone over the seduction tips and he’d really like to hear more about Merlin’s expertise on the subject.

                It doesn’t take Merlin long to respond: _[In that case you had better meet me in my office.]_

**Author's Note:**

> Merlin would not have had any of that passive turn-the-other-way bullshit. If he'd been part of Eggsy's life earlier, I feel like he would have removed Dean and his gang and found some quiet way to help the Unwins survive on their own.


End file.
